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Birds can fly, so why can't I?

AS a child, I often wondered why I couldn't fly. If sparrows could do it, why couldn't I?

It's a theme that recurs from time to time as I sit watching young seagulls on the Prince of Wales Pier in Falmouth.

They've only been in the world for a few weeks, yet there they are, hanging on the wind, swooping over boats, soaring and diving, settling on flag-poles, doing things I've never done in all my seventy-five years.

I think I'd trade in some of my human intelligence for the ability to glide across the Penryn River to my home village, veering over rooftops, taking in the stunning vistas as I hovered to a halt on the quay.

This led me to write a poem for my grandchildren about the kind of life we could lead if only we could flap our arms and take to the air.

If I could fly

I’d race the birds

Around the sky

I’d bounce on clouds

And touch the moon

And eat the sun

With a golden spoon

I’d soar over mountains

And speed down valleys

I’d scale skyscrapers

And screech up alleys

I’d visit galaxies

And count the stars

I’d have toast and jam

On Mercury and Mars

Of course, it's all fanciful nonsense for we earthbound humanoids. We can't do it - it's as simple as that. We can send machines to Mars, but we can't get lift-off from a standing start.

Anyway, one thing led to another, and I ended up drawing this picture of my grandson Inigo flying on high among the birds. What a wonderful fantasy, to bounce on clouds and touch the moon, and eat the sun with a golden spoon. So here it is - Inigo Flying with the Birds. Enjoy!

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